


It's too much.

by ZeroX



Category: Lobotomy Corporation (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Cutting, F/F, Self Harm, borderline suicidal thoughts, employee shipping, idk how to tag shit, someone hurts themself, thats it man, the other pulls them aside to tell them to stop and comfort them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:10:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeroX/pseuds/ZeroX
Summary: Even the most basic of works is hard, how could anyone bear it? Even the most 'calm, non-threatening, simple' things in this place put so much stress on those who work with them. She may be one of the higher ranked employees, but she just can't bear this anymore. Not when everyone nearby is looking up to her.I'm not good at coming up with story names.





	It's too much.

Maybe if she sat really still, stared at the floor, the clerks wouldn’t notice her tearing up. _I’m not supposed to be here. It was a mistake for them to hire me. I’m not strong enough._ She bit her lip in an attempt to stifle her own sniffling. It wasn’t really working. Her hands were shaking; part from the pain, part from how hard she was squeezing her arm to hide the blood. Of course, she was upset too, and it made her whole body tremble slightly. She just hoped everyone walking by would pass it off as a break in self security under the pressure. That they’d pass off the scratches her weapon cut into her arm as an abnormality hurting her. Pass it off as something other than her hurting herself.

Anastasia didn’t know why she did it. It was a fit of panic, all of the pressure of knowing everyone relied on her here. She was the ‘strongest’ in the department, so all the newbies would look to her for help. It was the training department, after all. It was a mistake to put her here. Surely the manager misunderstood. _I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand it._ She barely knew what she was doing, herself. How could she make it here? They’re only adding more abnormalities, even in _her_ department. One of them supposedly was supposed to be stronger than anything that’s been put in here before. _How can I handle this? I’m just going to die here, I’m just going to be another insignificant number._

 

She’s too wrapped up in her distress to notice someone had stopped walking to stand near her; only realizing it when they speak up.

“...Hey.” Flat, somewhat monotone, somewhat blunt.

She flinches, looking up at the person almost looming over her. _Oh god, she’s going to be mad at me._ Her first thought as her watering eyes meet River’s stoic face. There couldn’t be a worse person to stop and see her. Of course, everyone knew how she was. She stood out, tall with a face of stone; always looking vaguely agitated or angry at everything as she went about her work. Her rifle and crown of thorns did nothing but enhance her looming appearance. Everyone considered her to be the best agent in the building, herself included. She could take down a hall of worms in a single shot. She solos some of the abnormalities that breach. She levels anyone who stands in the direction of her gun. Anastasia’s seen the littering of monster corpses and clerk bodies alike in the halls. And now _she’s_ standing here, staring her down.

For a second, her eyes flick to her wrist, and Anastasia swears her face hardens the tiniest bit more. She grips it tighter out of instinct. _She’s going to think I’m weak. She knows what happened. Oh god, what do I do?_ She moves to speak, opening her mouth with a sharp breath. River talks first.

“Did you do that?”

Her words are flat like any, but she swears she can hear disgust in them. It takes her a moment, her mouth wanting to say no, but the rest of her knows better than to lie to her. She starts to stand up, thinking anywhere would be better than insulting her by being like this. “...Y-yes… I’m sorry, I should g—“

“Wait.” River’s expression doesn’t change, though she abruptly grabs Anastasia’s unhurt wrist. She pauses before starting to pull it forwards. “Come with me.” She doesn’t let her argue before she starts pulling her in a direction down the hall.

 

It instilled a fear in her, but she wouldn’t dare try pulling away. Who knows what she’d do if she resisted orders. She can’t get herself to speak, even though she feels like she should apologize, that she’s done everything wrong, that she’s being nothing but a burden to the head agent. Where is she even taking her? The medbay would make sense, but what would they do if she went there? Would they check her in? Would they fire her for instability? Even though she couldn’t do this job, the idea of the implication fills her with dread. Her dread only doubles as she’s walked _past_ medbay, towards the sleeping quarters.

_Oh god. What is she going to do to me?_ The mental image of the clerks on the ground, blackened holes cutting through them enters her mind. If she can just kill clerks like that, who’s to say agents aren’t fair game? Is she being led off to be put down like a bum-legged horse behind the barn? When she stops next to a door and presses the button to open it, Anastasia doesn’t know what will be past it.

As the door slides open, River pulls her inside; only letting go after the door has closed. She doesn’t bother to turn towards her or even glance her way before walking off to the side of the room. It’s not a blood smattered room like Anastasia’s dread filled mind colored it to be, in fact, it’s… Relatively plain. There’s nothing remarkable about it, which unsettles her a little. It’s extremely standard to the sleeping quarters given to her when she first was hired. All of the basics, and she struggled to find any hint of personal touches to it. Hardly any noticeable personal belongings, nothing hung on the walls. The only thing that made it even seem to be a _used_ room is how carelessly distressed things are. Not messy, but… casual. Personal clothes all thrown on the same chair. A small ashtray with smudged out cigarettes. A single book carelessly tossed onto a bedside shelf.

 Why did she bring her to _her_ room? Still gripping her arm, Anastasia doesn’t dare to walk anywhere. She stiffens up again as she finally speaks. “... Sit down.” Of course, she obeys; panicking for a moment as she realizes there isn’t any chair that doesn’t have anything on it already. She catches River glance over at her, before she slightly gestures towards the bed. Unsure of anything, she sits there, board stiff despite her want to curl up and hide away from all of this. She still stares at the floor, fearing eye contact as her eyes start to water again. _God, I’m so useless. I’m just being a burden, making her go out of her way… Why am I even here?_

 

“Hold out your arm.”

 

She snaps to attention, looking up to see River holding a metal box. Still shaking, she holds both out to show the small cuts on the edge of her arm, and the blood smeared on her opposite hand. She frowns down at her— at least, she thinks she is. Stooping down to her level, she looks at the cuts, wordlessly opening the tin and looking through it. She pulls out a cotton pad and a bottle, pouring some onto it before pressing it onto the cuts. Of course it stings, and she’s not exactly gentle. Why is she patching her up? Wouldn’t it be easier to just take her to the medbay?

 “Don’t trust the germs around here…” She’s a silent for a moment, not glancing away from the cuts, even as Anastasia watches her. “...Shallow.”

 “What?”

 “The cuts are shallow.” Anastasia frowns at the comment. Why does it matter? What difference did it make?

 

“You wanted help.”

 

She goes still, watching as River finally looks up while pulling the pad away from the cuts. She tosses the cotton onto the floor before starting to dig through the tin again. “If you really wanted to hurt yourself, it would be deeper. They’re just enough to be noticed by someone.”

She wants to apologize immediately. Of course, she’s just a distraction, a burden wanting to be picked up and carried by someone stronger. She really was useless.

“It’s better to ask for help directly. Hurting yourself isn’t needed.” She pulls out a strip of gauze, wrapping it almost too tightly around her wrist. Anastasia’s head sinks, staring at the ground as she starts to tear up even more. _Useless. Useless._ Once she’s done, River looks up at her even though she’s looking away. Quietly, she slides her hand into her palm, squeezing it tight. “Don’t do it again.”

She doesn’t know what to say, stiffening still as her hand is squeezed almost too hard. River just goes on. “... If you need help, talk to me. Don’t hurt yourself again.”

She finally looks up, her eyes finally meeting hers. She still looks stonefaced as she always does, even as she speaks. “It’s not worth your pain. This world hurts people enough.”

She lets go of her hand, standing up and walking away towards a shelf. Idly, she picks up a box of cigarettes, pulls one, and lights it. After a drag, she speaks up again, not looking at her as she looks over the books on the shelf. “Hurting yourself doesn’t do anything good. You think you can’t handle this, yeah?” She finally glances back with the cigarette in her mouth. Anastasia stays quiet, though eventually she nods. River makes a soft noise, maybe a single small bitter laugh. “That’s how it is. Sink or swim. Think about it this way. You’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you, yeah?”

She finally turns, watching Anastasia nod slightly, clearly hesitant to reply. “Then you’ve survived everything so far. One hundred percent survival rate. Who says you can’t keep that up?” She walks closer, hunching back down to stare her in the face. “You’re important. You think the manager would have hired you if they didn’t think you had potential?” She can tell she’s examining her face, even as hers remains cold. “You think I came here able to do what I can?” She lets out a single dry laugh. “Didn’t even know how to shoot a gun before I trained here. Half taught by a damn abnormality too. Everything has potential. _You_ have potential.” She abruptly prods her in the chest, almost hard enough to push her back. “Manager’s not the only one that sees it. Why do you think the people around you look up to you?”

 

Anastasia sits silent, not really sure how to respond to this unexpected and surprisingly supportive one-sided conversation. Why was she saying all of this to _her_ of all people? River sighs, taking a second to take a drag and blow the unusually dark smoke to the side. “You don’t have to take what I say. But I think you can do it. I don’t see you sinking quite yet.”

What she’s saying means something, but she doesn’t know how to feel. She’s not sure if she could keep doing this. She doesn’t feel like it is. She can’t stop herself from crying, despite all the blunt supportive words. Why can’t she stop crying? She probably looks like a mess to her. She probably doesn’t seem like she’s even listening. River sighs, pacing away from her. “Everyone’s got a stake at life. I don’t know why you came, but you don’t go to this job if you don’t think you can do it. I know that confidence isn’t entirely gone. If it was, you’d have gone running, begging to get out. All you’ve done is try to get help. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

 

She’s quiet, pausing to give her a good look over. “... Stand up.” Anastasia stiffens at the command, not sure why she’s asking it so abruptly. She’s probably going to just tell her to leave now, since it’s not getting through. She’s just wasting her time. Still, she does as she says, looking at the floor. She locks up as she sees River walk closer, standing right in front of her. As she looks up to see what she’s doing, she abruptly wraps her arms around her and pins her arms in place against her sides.

 

“You promise me you won’t do it again?”

 

Anastasia stays quiet, starting to shake slightly as her tears bubble up harder. She doesn’t know why she’s crying even more now.

 “...Well?”

 She takes a moment, still trembling. Slowly, she moves her arms up to wrap around her back. She can’t get the waiver out of her voice as her tears get the front of River’s suit wet. “...Y-Yeah…”

 

“Good.”

 

Anastasia feels her loosen her grip, but she doesn’t let go or pull away at all. She doesn’t want her to. She doesn’t know how long she stays here like this, but River doesn’t let go until she does first.

She can’t stop sniffling, even as she tries to speak. “I-I’m sorry, I’ve wasted… wasted s-so much of your time… I—“

“Don’t. You haven’t.”

She doesn’t know what to say. She stands quietly for a moment, still struggling to not feel bad under her cold gaze. River finally speaks up, walking across the room to put out her cigarette. “The manager is going to ask where I am.” She moves towards the door, and Anastasia starts to follow. She stops, holding a hand out to her. “Don’t. Stay here. Don’t worry about the manager. I’ll make an excuse. Stay here as long as you need to.”

She keeps moving to the door, opening it as she stands, waiting behind her. “... If you need me,” she pauses, gesturing at the headpiece in her ear. “Tell me. My radio number is 3722. Don’t care the reason. Can’t guarantee I’ll be able to reply right away.”

Anastasia slowly takes out her earpiece, looking at the numbers on the side indicating the channel. River starts walking out the door, stopping for a moment. “Don’t hurt yourself more. I care about you.” She doesn’t let her say anything before the door shuts behind her.

 

She stands quietly in the middle of River’s room, upset and drained and numb from all of this. She looks at her bandaged wrist for a moment, before looking around at the things in the room around here. It smells like smoke in here, but different than the cigarette she put out earlier. More pungent. Slightly earthy. She glances over at the ashtray before looking back at her wrist again and moving to sit down on her bed. She slouches, staring at the wall.

3722… She sighs, rolling the earpiece in her hands. Worn out, she slouches over until she’s partially laying on her side. 

 

* * *

  


A few hours later, River comes back to her room and tosses a blanket over Anastasia before moving to grab another cigarette. Not bothering her, she sits on the chair with clothes piled on it and leans against the back of it. It’s been a long day. She could do with some rest.

**Author's Note:**

> They get together later on, for the record. I'm jus' sayin'.


End file.
